One Last Cry
by Dirty Chandelier
Summary: You can't always have what you want, even when you know you deserve it...


One Last Cry  
One-Shot  
By: Mister Blue

Disclaimer: A black man owning _Fairly Odd Parents_ where the only black kid on the show is considered a disposable character? Get Real!

Oh, and before I forget, _One Last Cry_ is a song performed by Brian McKnight (though I think some of you are more familiar with Justin Timberlake's cover…)

* * *

If one could look into the _Guinness Book of World Records_ for the biggest fool on the planet, you would see her name listed. So many warnings were written on the walls, and she emphatically ignored them. She had to defy the obvious- she felt she had the right to. How else was she going to make happiness for herself? 

There was no support for her, no assistance. No one bothered to give her any advice or plant a hint in her head. Finding love was a solo mission for her- one in which she would never say surrender. The girl was a soldier, ready to be wounded and bruised.

As with any good soldier, she would fight the hard fight until she could fight no more. She was ready for anything, or so she told herself time and time again. No matter how much blood she lost or how many limbs she'd have to sacrifice- it was her life's mission- the reason why she breathed. Its ending, however, would be a failure.

With a waning moon shining through her window in the tranquil twilight sky, she lay helplessly on her mattress staring at the ceiling. Her dark blue pupils were light and unmoving, with her eyelids only closing every few moments. Her petite mouth parted open, barely breathing. Her hands were clutching her heart as if she was shot there, and in a way, it was...

She had been this way for hours, hardly moving a muscle in her lithe body. It hurt too much to- pain was everywhere. Not physical pain, mind you, but one that could be considered worse- the pain of lost love. She had been shot down so badly that trying to lift a finger was detrimental to her health. Even if it wasn't so, what good would it do? Her life was over, and above all, meaningless.

_My shattered dreams and broken heart  
Are mending on the shelf  
__I saw you holding hands, standing close to someone else

* * *

_Earlier, Tootie was coming from home to read a thoughtful poem that she had spent days on. It overrode the importance of her homework, which resulted in a few late assignments. She wasn't overly concerned, though her grades were decent, and a few overdue papers wouldn't do much harm. She was so confident in herself then- even if she didn't win Timmy's heart then and there, it would give him a lot to think about. If she could do that, then she knew she had found a way to him.

In a cute outfit her mother had bought for her on her twelfth birthday (consisting of a form-fitting white turtleneck with a large red heart, a short red skirt, and red high-heeled platform shoes), she hummed a catchy tune as she strutted her way to her crush's house. Thank goodness her older sister Vicky wasn't around- she liked to ruin her good vibes any way she could.

As she was within yards of Timmy's, she could see him sitting on the doorstep alongside another girl. Her hair was black like her own, but unlike her long pigtails, hers was straight. This made her slow down- she was not used to seeing another girl this close to Timmy other than her. Furthermore, the clothes she wore were very basic- a forest green Cardigan sweater (also form-fitting, with a cut-out in the chest area) and (low-riding) blue jeans. Okay, so they weren't so basic, and why should they be? They were being worn by the most spoiled girl in Dimmsdale...

Her humming stopped as she began to listen in. They were talking in the softest of tones, so she could barely make them out. The two were slowly inching closer to each other, with their eyes glued to the other's. Tootie watched in suspense and dismay as she thought the worst. Timmy's hand then reached up to her face, touching her petal pink cheeks, smiling all the while. Soon the girl began to grin herself at his touch, and placed one of her hands on top of his, making the chocolate brown-haired boy blush.

_Now I sit all alone wishing all my feeling was gone  
I gave my best to you, nothing for me to do  
But have one last cry_

She began to feel the pit of her stomach drop as she heard the girl chant:

"Timmy, do you really love me?"

After a moment a silence, he moved in closer to her, and in a passionate tone, he answered, "I think you know the answer to that by now, Trixie..."

Feeling bile rise from her throat, Tootie looked on as Trixie beamed back at him and pulled Timmy in for a deep-throated kiss. The handwritten poem fell out of her hands, hitting the sidewalk pavement as her body twitched. Dizziness began to come over her, and the bile began to flood her mouth. Before she vomited, she ran away from Timmy's to a nearby lawn (the Dinklebergs') and fell to her knees, coughing madly.

She continued to cough up fluids as she gazed at the grass below her. Sweat began to produce on her skin and her glasses fogged up. She took her dirt-ridden hands to take them off. She didn't care if she got dirty- it fit her right now. She felt lower than dirt, actually- at least it got a little love every so often from the elements. Tootie didn't receive much from anyone. Her parents would, maybe, but they were rarely in the house, and even if they were, her big sister pretty much ran things with an iron fist.

Reluctantly, she picked herself off of the ground, not even bothering to wipe the soil and grass from off of her. Her eyes refused to not look at the ground below- she would like be six feet deep in a hell hole right now. According to Vicky, that's where she belonged, right? No better time to start digging than now...

Tootie didn't notice that someone was calling her name. It probably was Timmy, looking for her to show how hurt she was so he and Trixie could laugh at her. She wouldn't let them get it though, as her head was still low. He kept calling her, but she channeled it out. What in the world could he want for? Wasn't he happy enough with kissing the girl of his dreams? Why must they rub it in?

She kept moving along until Timmy held her by the arm. Feeling him grip her slowly turned her sadness into anger. She wanted to be alone and commiserate with herself- was that too much to ask?

"Tootie, what's wrong?" he asked, seemingly concerned.

She could feel her blood boil. She felt mocked. _What in the heck do you think is wrong? I wore my best outfit for you today... I was going to read you something that came straight from my heart, and you're smooching Miss Attitude over there! If that's not wrong, then I don't know what is!_

Her fists began to clench. "Nothing," she lied.

He came around to face her. She lifted her head briefly to see Trixie standing behind Timmy, a little irritated, but doing a good job of hiding it from either of them.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You're hurt, Tootie," he mused, "Did Vicky do something to you?"

She remained silent- his denseness was beginning to grate her nerves, but she kept motionless. _I don't think even Vicky could do something this painful to me..._

"Tootie," he begged again, "tell me what's wrong."

Damnit- why wouldn't he let go? What would it take? She imagined herself planting a fist into his Trixie-kissed mouth and busting his nose with a swift kick. Couldn't he see he wasn't helping? All these words were adding fuel to an already burning flame. If he didn't let go in a few seconds, she'd make him feel heat...

While she was in her thoughts, she didn't see Timmy look down to pick up a small piece of folded paper. He bent down to pick it up, but before he could, Tootie snapped out of her trance, swiping it away from him. He didn't deserve to know- it wasn't his business anymore. He didn't love her, so what good was it for him to read... unless she wanted him to hate her more...

Nearly tripping over herself, she ran past him and Trixie, not bothering to look back. She felt herself about to break down again and she'd be damned if Timmy or Trixie saw it. She didn't stop her legs until they reached home, where she rushed to her room, finally collapsing onto her bed, sobbing into her pillow...

_One last cry, before I leave it all behind  
__I've gotta put you outta my mind this time  
Stop living a lie  
I guess I'm down to my last cry_

_

* * *

_Tootie's eyes glanced at her alarm clock: it was eight o'clock now. Usually her parents get in about now, having done playing their game of hide-and-seek with their daughters. Finally rising from her bed, she stretched out, trying to forget about her loss and live for another day.

She stared at herself at the mirror, still in her red outfit. It was a shame that it did have a chance to serve a purpose, but at least she thought she looked great in it. She even got a few looks from some guys in school today (including one of Timmy's friends), so this wouldn't be the last time she'd be seem like this, even if today was a bust.

Taking off her shoes, she spared a moment to stare at her Timmy shrine. It had literally become a museum of massive worship, almost like a church. She smirked, thinking of all the time she invested in this- all the spying, sneaking around, and all the memorabilia that she had inherited from her trials with the Turners' only child. She gave a weak smile- she should leave it up, just to laugh at it and say "that was the old me"- just to remind her that this was just a stupid phase in her life, and not to repeat history. Timmy Turner was just another boy, right?

"Are you still gunning for that twerp? Geez, you're becoming more pathetic every day!"

Taking a sigh, Tootie spun to her to see her always domineering older sister Vicky. Her arms were wrapped around her chest, clicking her tongue with a small frown.

"No, Vicky," Tootie said, smirking back, "I'm just wondering whether I should throw this mess away or just keep it to remind me how much of an idiot I've been and never do it again."

"Oh, really?" Vicky chirped.

She firmly nodded her head "Really," Tootie retorted, "I'm over Timmy Turner now. My heart belongs to no one." Anticipating her sister's response, she sat on the edge of her bed, folding one leg over the other with her hands on her lap.

"Good," Vicky replied, "then it won't bother you to tell you that when I was coming home from classes, I saw the twerp kissing that rich brat Trixie before she got picked up by her limo to go home."

Tootie snorted at the report. "I'm not surprised."

"Well, I brought pizza home," Vicky said with a smirk, leaving the room, "so you better come down now before Doidle and I have it all for ourselves."

As soon as Vicky left her sight, she could feel something weaken inside of her. The feelings of the past began to wash up again...

_I was here, you were there  
Guess we never could agree  
While the sun shines on you  
I need some love to rain on me_

She could remember the few times she and Timmy had kissed. Neither time was requited, though, but at least she remembered every moment of them, if nothing else. Few times in her life had she felt the same things that she felt when she kissed him (or the other way around). Not even her parents gave her something that moved her so deeply. It was so warm, leaving her body wobbly and weak from excitement and surges of adrenaline. She truly thought it was love then.

Her eyes closed again, focusing hard on reliving those moments. If she could have those, everything would be alright. It wouldn't matter how cold and alone she felt- she could just dream of their kisses, and all would be well. She leaned back onto her bed, ready for the memories to take her away from this heartless, unforgiving world.

Such thoughts could only hold her tranquil for so long. Minutes later, her eyes abruptly opened, having become tired of seeing the past. She sat up again, glancing across her room, seeing all her Timmy memorabilia. It was then when she asked herself why she loved him so much.

What was she doing with all of these posters, pictures and projects of him? They felt so satisfying to her before, granting her with immeasurable amounts of motivation when she was writing that poem, giving her the feeling of righteousness... the feeling that she deserved him.

_Still I sit all alone, wishing all my feeling was gone  
Gotta get over you, nothing for me to do  
But have one last cry_

She felt none of that now; instead, a sensation very foreign to her came to her when it came to Timmy. Her body began to shake as she stood to her feet. She couldn't understand why, but a part of her felt abused and resented. Why did she feel this way? This was wrong... this isn't how she should think right now!

Her body brought her face to face with one of her posters of Timmy. The resentment started to increase for the boy she loved... no, she didn't love him. How could she love someone who took her heart for a ride, only to send it crashing down? She was a fool for him- a stupid, headstrong fool. This had to end... now.

Bringing one of her hands to the side of the poster, she took not a second thought as she lifted it off the wall ferociously, sending it floating to the floor. She then did the same to every other Timmy-based item she had on her walls. With each rip, her anger rose, driving her to rage though them without a care. How dare she steal her life away like this! She gave her heart to him, and he literally spat on it.

"Damn you, Timmy Turner!" she screamed out, hoping somehow he'd hear it. In her hand was a sculpture of him, of which she threw violently into her wastebasket. She did the same to her Timmy doll, imagining herself squeezing it so hard that the stuffing popped out of it. Not one piece of memorabilia was spared until the room was wiped clean of his presence.

_One last cry, before I leave it all behind  
I've gotta put you outta my mind this time  
Stop living a lie_

Calming down after several minutes of vandalizing her own room, she slouched herself on the side of her bed. She was surprised Vicky hadn't come up to see what was going on, but then she was probably too busy stuffing her mouth with pizza, so that could have been why. Pity, though- she wanted her older sister to be a witness to this remodeling firsthand. The look on her face would have surely said it all.

Her eyes glanced down to one of the things she hadn't thrown away- a Crimson Chin model. She scowled, wondering why she hadn't disposed of it yet. It was just a doll, right? There were a billion of these out there! She can surely dispose of it without a second thought.

Unfortunately, a moment of the past crept into her mind- the day that she got the doll from Timmy. Sure, he gave it to her so he would stop following her, but it was... indestructible... and it insulted Vicky... it was one of the few times where he was really thoughtful to her. She never really thanked him for that...

Could that be the reason he didn't like her- because she was ungrateful? She never really showed any form of gratitude other than hugging him tightly. Maybe she should have gripped less tightly... she didn't know any better at the time. Maybe it was her high-pitched squeals for him... there was so much that she did wrong.

On the other hand, would any of that have mattered? Could she have ever had a chance at him, or was she destined to fail from the start? Did all he ever have for her was pity for her and never love? Every question made her dig deeper and deeper inside of herself... and wonder how she got caught up in this silly game.

_I know I gotta be strong  
'Cause round me life goes on and on and on_

After moments of frustration and reflection, the answers came...

It _never_ mattered... she _was_ destined to fail... and Timmy could never love her- it was _always_ pity. She wasn't ready for those answers, clutching her chest in shock and dismay. She knew they were correct, though. It was time to move on.

Maybe there would be better things in the future... one day, she'd be able to tell her parents and Vicky about the disdain she has for all of them. There might be a time in the future where she can find someone who truly loves her. Hell, there may be the slim chance that she would get over that pink-clothed jerk known as Timmy Turner. She smirked humorlessly- maybe she could forgive herself as well.

But right now... clutching the red action figure in her hands, letting the lukewarm tears slide down her face... alone in her room, with the rich moonlight peering in from outside... there was one thing she'd do...

_I'm gonna dry my eyes  
Right after I had my  
One last cry_

She closed her eyes tightly, tears still making their way out. She'd let them flow like a waterfall... she didn't care. This would be the last time she'd let herself be hurt by someone like this again. Not Timmy, not Vicky, nor anyone else. No longer would she be a fool and pour out her heart to anyone. She'd be more careful next time...

For now, though... she'd have her one last cry.

_One last cry, before I leave it all behind  
I've gotta put you outta my mind for the very last time  
Been living a lie  
I guess I'm down  
I guess I'm down  
I guess I'm down..._

_To my last cry..._

_

* * *

_I've always wanted to do something like this. You see, there are some times where I have my doubts about Timmy/Tootie (although I'd like to see it happen). I just don't know if Timmy could ever love a person like Tootie- will all he do is feel sorry for her, or could he feel something else for her? With the way Timmy acts sometimes around her, it's hard to tell. She may be too much for him...

I'm a proud Tootie fan- one of the few out there. She's annoying, but she's cute, and when she's older, she'll be one sexy young thang IMHO. But looks aren't everything- she's smart and persistant, too. Needless to say, I feel bad for Tootie when there's a fic where she doesn't get Timmy, but unless it's a Timmy/Vicky, she'll get over it after a while. It's only a schoolgirl crush...

Anyway, those are just my thoughts on this stuff. Hope you enjoyed it, and hope you review.

Mr. Blue

PS: QuickEdit's a frickin' nightmare!


End file.
